Afterglow
by lycanus1
Summary: The morning after the night before ... Sequel to "A Silent Longing." *WARNING: contains very, VERY mild slash*


_**Disclaimer: **_The KA lads _never_ were mine, _still_ aren't mine and _never_ will be. Everything you recognize, belongs to Jerry Bruckheimer & Touchstone Pictures - godsdamnit ! No copyright infringement is intended.

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**Afterglow**

It was still dark when Tristan awoke the following morning. He lay quietly on his back, gazing at the moon through the open skylight, lost in thought. By now, the unexpected events of the previous night felt like a figment of his imagination ... A mere dream.

Then suddenly and to his intense relief, he was proven wrong. Tristan heard the soft rustling of the woollen blanket, then felt a warm, muscular forearm drape itself possessively across his taut abdomen. A large, beautifully formed hand dexterously came to rest upon his naked right hip and he found himself effectively trapped between his bedmate and the loft's wall.

Dagonet, Tristan thought, his lips curving into a rare, gentle, yet genuinely happy smile. He slowly turned his head to watch the slumbering man nestled at his side.

The reluctant, albeit formidable, warrior lay on his right side facing him, his right forearm tucked beneath his closely cropped head for support. To the Scout's surprize, Dagonet appeared much younger and possessed a childlike innocence and trust as he slept soundly and peacefully beside him.

An overwhelming surge of protectiveness struck the Aorsi as he gazed at the tall Healer. He'd always been intrigued how this man alone, was the only person capable of inspiring such tenderness within him. And a colossal need to safeguard him from any harm, be it physical, mental or emotional. He dared not, could not and would not imagine life without the gentle giant.

It was at that exact moment, Tristan realized the true nature of his feelings for his brother-in-arms. Oh, he cared for his fellow knights - more than they knew. Deep down, he even liked the irritatingly annoying young whelp, Galahad, although he'd never admit it. But Dagonet ? He was special ...

The Scout gave a soft sigh, his warm, amber gaze fixed upon the ruggedly handsome Sarmatian sharing his pallet. The bigger man stirred and the younger warrior unconsciously held his breath as Dagonet moved to nestle closer, seeking warmth.

Dagonet lay half-sprawled on top of him and languourously pushed a thick, well-muscled thigh between the Aorsi's. The action was innocently made, yet Tristan couldn't prevent the strangled, husky moan of need that escaped his lips, as the white-hot heat of longing he could only feel for Dagonet began to rage deep within his loins. An acute desire that swiftly had him erect and painfully hard.

Matters didn't improve when Tristan suddenly became aware of the older knight's arousal digging insistently against his thigh. Even in repose it was immense ... and rock-hard. With a low groan, he recalled how good the thick, silken, heated length had felt between his lips and sheathed deep within him.

Despite his initial shyness and inexperience, the Roxolani - once he'd overcome his inhibitions - had been both touchingly eager and willingly receptive. Desperate to learn how to please them both. To Tristan's awe, Dagonet had proved to be a remarkably fast and gifted pupil. The art of lovemaking came to him as naturally as breathing. He'd been tender, gentle and imaginative. A generous, selfless, sensual lover who was extremely sensitive to his partner's needs and desires.

Tristan sighed. He'd never had such a caring, attentive bedmate. One that excited him and left him breathless, with an intense, burning craving for so much more ...

But now he was torn. On the one hand, he was sorely tempted to rouse the Roxolani Healer and show him how much he cared for and desired him. Yet on the other hand, a crippling fear held him back. The dread of seeing horror and regret in Dagonet's kindly, silver eyes and an absolute fear of being rejected by him.

A wave of intense sorrow washed over Tristan and biting his lip, he closed his eyes and began to brood. He'd always cared deeply for Dagonet, far more than he did for anyone else. But last night had irrevocably changed all that. He now realized, without a shadow of a doubt, that for the first time in his life he was truly and passionately_ in _love. Dagonet had ensnared him and held both his heart and soul ... forever.

The Healer rolled over to lie on his back. As he did so, Tristan gave a sigh of relief and slowly began to feel the tension leave his own body. Unfortunately, any respite he'd hoped for proved to be short-lived. The abrupt lack of body heat had the older knight reaching out in his sleep and suddenly, he pulled the bewildered Scout back into his warm embrace. Tristan felt the tension return once again with a vengeance as Dagonet's strong arm immediately tightened around him, his grip akin to the Healer himself, both firm yet gentle.

"Sleep, my bold, fearless Scout," Dagonet murmured drowsily, his lips grazing Tristan's forehead before settling the younger, lithe man comfortably against his hard, warm torso. "Rest, Tris ... Morning will come all too soon - for _both_ of us ..."

Tristan sighed then replied quietly, his gravelly voice full of regret, "It's too late, my wolf. 'Tis almost sunrise. Listen ..." He tilted his handsome head to one side and looked up through the skylight. The sky was becoming lighter and birdsong could be heard.

Dagonet gave a low groan of protest. "Oh, gods ! No ! It can't be ... 'Tis but a dream. It has to be ..." He eyed Tristan wistfully, his scarred, attractive face had a winsome look which the Scout found irresistible. "I ... I wish _we_ had more time ..." He raised his right hand and lightly ran the back of his fingers down over Tristan's tattooed left cheek and the Aorsi couldn't help holding his breath as those callused, sensitive, talented fingers slowly and deliberately trailed a path across his firm, bearded jawline to tilt up his chin.

The Healer absently rubbed the ball of his thumb across Tristan's full lower lip, eliciting a soft gasp from him. Dagonet's steady gaze flickered briefly from Tristan's eyes to his sensuous mouth then back up to meet a pair of bemused, limpid, golden pools which eyed him with unconcealed desire. Dagonet gave another low groan and closed the gap between them.

"Forgive me, my friend, but I ... I need this ... I want this," Dagonet uttered softly, "so badly ..."

Tristan felt firm, warm lips claim his in a kiss that was heartachingly tender, full of promise and oh-so seductive. His hands drifted of their own accord to cradle Dagonet's head and he hungrily responded.

Soon, both men were lost in the intensity of the moment. Hands roamed freely over toned, lithe, muscular bodies. Exploring, caressing and mapping firm, heated flesh. Imprinting every scar and blemish to memory. Mouths and lips kissing, nipping, nibbling, licking and tasting ... Strong, hard, virile bodies pressing and grinding against each other slavishly. Desperately. Limbs entwining possessively, needfully, passionately ... Lovingly ...

The tall knight's breathing became ragged and he reluctantly pulled away, his callused hands were trembling as he caressed Tristan's damp back and sleek flanks.

"So beautiful ..." Dagonet's voice was thick and husky with emotion as he brought up his right hand to carefully sweep the dark, tousled shock of hair away from tempestuous, heated, red-gold eyes. Breathing deeply, the Scout watched him silently, secretly yearning for more. So much more ...

Tristan rested his forehead lightly against the Healer's and sighed. It was time for him to leave. He was to patrol that morning with Gawain and normally, he loved being out of the garrison's confines. He savoured the freedom those patrols allowed him. To roam the wild countryside without restraint. To come and go as he pleased ...

But now, as he gazed down at the powerfully-built, rugged man who lay pliantly beneath him, for the first time in years he was reluctant to leave. He had a reason - a compulsion - to stay ...

"Best that I leave you now," he began, only to be racked by guilt at the disappointed expression on Dagonet's face. He lowered his head to kiss the other man fleetingly, before rolling off the pallet to gracefully rise to his feet. The feel and taste of Dagonet's lips still lingered tantalizingly on his. Tristan glanced over his shoulder and saw that the strapping Roxolani half-reclining on the mattress, propping himself up on his elbows, oblivious to the blanket that had slid down his bare, glistening torso and was barely skimming his lean hips.

The intense, quiet scrutiny made Tristan's heart race madly; his body tingled with longing and desire once more and brought a faint flush of colour to his high cheekbones, which the Healer did not miss. Dagonet smiled lazily, his pale eyes gleamed like molten silver. He stretched his long, sinewy body and ignored the fact that the errant blanket now barely concealed his prominent arousal. It was as if he were purposefully tempting the Aorsi into staying with him. Deliberately trying to coax him not to leave ...

Chewing his lower lip, Tristan abruptly turned away and reached for his suede breeches and hastily tugged them over his slender hips. His hands shook badly as he attempted to lace them up. He was so distracted that he only became aware of Dagonet's close proximity when a pair of strong arms snaked around his lean waist, pulling him to rest flush against a smooth, broad chest and muscular torso. The long, hard length of the older man's sleek, powerful body enveloped and shielded his slighter frame and he couldn't prevent the soft, needy moan from escaping as Dagonet sought and nuzzled the sensitive hollow between the base of his neck and shoulder.

Tristan's breath hitched and his legs began to buckle as he felt that irresistible pull of attraction begin to unfurl once again deep within his loins. Swaying, he turned and reached out to the taller knight in an attempt to steady himself.

"It's alright, I've got you," Dagonet grinned, drawing the Scout's dark head to rest upon his chest, gently and soothingly skimming a hand over the slighter warrior's toned back, until the tension ebbed away from his lithe, athletic frame. Tristan allowed himself the pleasure of just being held by the man he loved for a brief moment, then reluctantly pulled away to reach for his green tunic and shrugged it on, before tugging on a pair of soft leather boots.

It was strange, he mused absently, that as soon as he'd left Dagonet's embrace, how cold he felt and that a vital part of him seemed to be missing. It was as if the big man alone made him feel whole ... Complete ...

It was only after he tucked the hunting knives down the sides of his boots and fastened the sheathed dao to lie snuggly between his shoulder blades that he finally dared to glance at Dagonet. By now, he too was partially clothed in snug-fitting, brown leathers and heavy protective boots. Tristan swallowed hard. The sight of his lover took his breath away. He was imposing, yet vulnerable ... Daunting, yet kind ... Scarred, yet beautiful.

"I must go," he rasped, once he was able to think coherently. His golden eyes were full of genuine regret. "I don't want to, but I have to ..."

The Healer's face remained impassive, yet his eyes revealed much to anyone who took the time and trouble to look. The limpid silver pools led directly to the heart and soul of the man and Dagonet was genuinely concerned about his wellbeing.

"Be safe, Tris," Dagonet said huskily. "I'd hate to see you come to any harm- "

Tristan grinned. "You worry too much, my wolf. Still ... _if_ I fell, it would give us a chance to be together, would it not ?"

The stubble-headed knight shook his head incredulously, then tilted it to one side and murmured, "_You_ are impossible."

"That's why_ you _like me," Tristan smirked knowingly.

"Who else would be fool enough to put up with you, you daft bastard ?" the scarred Sarmatian growled, trying to look serious and failing miserably.

Unable to stop himself, the Aorsi found himself standing before Dagonet, within touching distance. "So long as it's you, Dag, that's all I care about. I don't give a damn about anyone else," the Scout replied truthfully, honestly not caring about anyone's opinion except for the Healer's, which meant absolutely everything to him.

Both men silently watched each other with an intense longing then, with a soft moan, Tristan unexpectedly closed the gap between them and hungrily claimed his lover's lips once more. The Roxolani immediately reciprocated with a voracity that matched the Scout's, revelling in the feel of the younger man's beard grazing his skin. They became lost in the intensity of the kiss. Dagonet's hands cradling the slighter man's head, became tangled in the wild, dark mane. Tristan's hands gripped Dagonet's hips, holding him firmly against him. Chest to chest; groin to groin. Painfully hard erections thrusting and rubbing against each other. Craving friction. Wanting release ...

It was only when the Healer became dimly aware of Tristan's hands slipping beneath the supple leather to idly caress the smooth skin of his taut arse, that he found the willpower to break the kiss and push Tristan away none too gently.

"Go, now ..." he groaned a hoarse plea, silver eyes dark and stormy with need and hunger. "Please, my hawk ... While I'm still able to let you go ..."

Conflicted between his duty to patrol and the intense longing to stay with Dagonet, Tristan eyed him mutely. It was the pleading look in the Healer's expressive eyes that finally made his decision for him. He smiled in resignation, slowly nodded and turned on his heel and began to walk toward the rickety stairs which descended from the loft to the stables below.

"Tristan ... ?"

The Scout spun around gracefully at the sound of the Healer's quiet, husky voice. Eagerly. Hopefully. "Aye ?"

His lover was leaning against one of the low oak beams, his striking, pale eyes lingered yearningly on Tristan's face.

"Come back safe. _I'll_ wait for you ..."

Nodding slowly, a radiant smile broke across the handsome Aorsi's normally impassive face. The unmistakable promise in Dagonet's words and shy grin was all the incentive he needed to return to the fort alive and in one piece. With a final nod of acknowledgement, he turned once again and left in search of Gawain.

**Finis**


End file.
